All in the Family
by Morning Lilies
Summary: 78. That's how many unique connections there are between the Weasley grandkids (plus Teddy, an honorary Weasley). There're friends, there're not-friends, and there're those who barely know each other. But they're all connected by that indefinable binding force of family. 78 glimpses into the forging of this force.
1. Teddy

**A/N: I started this an exercise. It turned into a challenge. 78 unique relationships among the Weasley-plus-Teddy kids. 78 under-300-word scenes. Here's the first twelve. Please don't yell at me for starting a new story! I'm still working on the others. This one's a quicky. **

**Couple things: I'm cannon here. Teddy/Victoire is the only intended pairing. Also, several of these snippets fit into storylines I've mentioned in 'Days in a Year' or hope to integrate into longer stories. If they're frustratingly tease-y/ambiguous, my apologies. Search for more details in my other stories or let your imagination go free :) **

Teddy and Victoire – First Kiss

She was laughing at him, at how he got himself into these messes even now that he was of-age and needed to be rescued. He blushed beet-red in the summer sun as they walked back to the castle – the last walk he would take up this lane as a student headed home – with wild flowers blooming and birds singing. He punched her arm, but not too hard, never ever going to tell her that it was over _her _and _her honor _that he'd lost his temper with those prats in the first place. Sometimes he didn't think she knew how pretty she was and what people would say because of it.

She gave him a retaliatory shove and soon they were chasing each other up the road, swatting and ramming like they'd done when they were little kids. But when he caught her around the waste and swung her half around, when her sweet-smelling, rosy-gold hair was tickling his chin and she leaned her head back so that her face was inches from him… suddenly they were in a whole new world.

Teddy and Dominique – Rules

There were rules, she informed him when Teddy swung himself onto the stone wall beside her, curious to know why she was sulking. He often forgot that she was four-and-a-half years younger than him because she rarely acted it, but once in a while, the eight-year-old in her would come out. There were rules that had to be followed, she said sourly, even if they were stupid rules that only got _her_ into trouble.

"Well," he said, nudging her with his shoulder. "There's a rule that friends have to pick your side once in a while, no matter what."

"But you're Vic's friend," she said skeptically. Victoire was angry with her. If Teddy picked her side, he'd be picking against Victoire.

Teddy grinned at her. "There's no rule says I can't be your friend, too."

Teddy and Louis – Confusion

"Hey, Teddy?"

"Yeah?"

"We're mates, right? Even though you're Head Boy and I'm only an ickle firstie?"

"Yeah," Teddy laughed, cuffing Louis lightly around the ear. "I've known you your whole life. Of course we're mates."

Louis furrowed his brow. "So… we're mates, so I like you. But you're my sister's boyfriend, so I should hate you. Which one is it?"

Louis waited patiently while Teddy attempted to suppress his chortling. "Both, mate. Both." He said at last, clapped Louis on the shoulder, and walked away, leaving him just as confused as ever.

Teddy and Molly – Sorrow

Her father told her not to stare, but she couldn't help it. Boys weren't supposed to cry. Not when they were ten and almost off to school. They weren't supposed to hide their faces in their grandmothers' shoulders or have their godfathers scoop them up like little children. Dominique snapped at her for gawping and Victoire turned her to face the front again with not a word.

He was always around, though she didn't understand why exactly. He wasn't a Weasley or a Potter. She didn't know him well – he was too busy with Victoire or with Aunt Ginny's babies. But she knew he was the boy that lost his parents, and that must mean he could cry for the rest of his life. On May second, anyway, the Day of Tears. She didn't blame him. There was nothing in the world she could think of that was sadder.

Teddy and Lucy – Mistake

Teddy poured the baby gently into the cradle of Lucy's arms. His daughter fit snuggly against her chest, her hand cupping the downy blond hair dusting the crown of Isobel's head. He watched in puzzlement as Lucy sank down into an empty chair at the Burrow's kitchen table, eyes filling and lips trembling. The hoots and laughter of her cousins, aunts, and uncles drifted in through the door on a summer breeze.

"Do you think a mistake can be a miracle, too?" she whispered, so quietly that Teddy scarcely heard.

He knelt in front of her, playing with one of Isobel's tiny pink hands. Lucy and Molly he had never known as well as the rest. In fact, this was the first private moment he could remember the two of them sharing. But that didn't stop his heart melting for her. Maybe it was because he'd just had a daughter of his own, or because she was close to Lily's age, but he would have given quite a lot to fix everything for her.

Teddy and Fred – Hope

The mead was dark and strong, the last of the wedding bottle he and Victoire had steadily been stealing sips from whenever life got difficult. Teddy drank down half his glass in one swallow, and looked across the table at Fred. He just stared morosely into the murky depths of his drink. He was twenty years old, a businessman like his father with his own flat and a girlfriend and success on his fingertips, but he looked half a boy just now, lost and miserable.

"I feel like it's _my _fault, but I don't really know how," he mumbled.

Teddy heaved a deep sigh. "Yeah, sometimes I let you take the blame, too," he admitted. "But just as often I feel like it's my fault. But we're not responsible for James. We can try, but he'll do what he wants; he always has."

"But he's my best mate," said Fred as if that trumped all arguments.

"And he's my little brother in everything but blood," Teddy shrugged, taking another sip. "We can try our best to look out for him, but in the end, all we can do is hope he figures things out for himself."

Teddy and Roxanne – Hide

"It's not what it looks like."

Teddy felt his eyebrows shoot up as he raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. He'd only come in here looking for Lily.

"It looks like you're studying," he ventured bemusedly.

Roxanne slowly turned back to the desk, sliding a pair of wire-rimmed reading glasses off her nose and fiddling with them. Her dark ringlets fell over her face.

"Is… that not what this is?" Teddy asked, taking a tentative step forward and perched on the edge of one of the twin beds.

He could have just asked if she knew where Lily was and pretended to have never noticed anything amiss, but he was intrigued. Molly and Rose viewed schoolwork as an Olympic sport, and Al had always loved a good story, but most of the rest wouldn't be caught dead with a book. A lot of them had been blessed with a penchant for being naturally gifted, but to study was practically heresy, especially for Fred. He wondered if that was why a dark flush had crept up Roxanne's cheeks.

"I don't _need _to," Roxanne told him defensively, abandoning her glasses to run her fingers restlessly along the spines of the books stacked in front of her. "I just _like _to. So I like knowing things, what's the matter with that? It's not like I _flaunt _it."

"I think it's brilliant," Teddy told her honestly. She turned a skeptical eye on him, as if searching for sarcasm. He didn't know why. She was not generally shy or easily embarrassed, and he only picked on James and Fred and Dominique. "Why do you hide it?"

She shrugged, seeming to mull the question over. "I guess it's kind of nice to have a secret in this family."

Teddy and Rose – Clear Skies

"You know, I don't need a babysitter anymore," Rose told him. "I'm _twelve_."

"Yeah, probably," Teddy shrugged, flopping down on her bed and bunching up a princess pillow to rest his chin on. "But then what would I do all day, huh?"

Rose huffed and turned back to the letter she was furiously scribbling away at. "Where's Hugo?"

"Sugar crashed on the couch," Teddy said unconcernedly.

"I _told_ you not to give him anymore ice cream."

"I think it was the jelly beans that did it. I warned him against those."

A few minutes passed in silence save for the scratching of Rose's quill and the creak of the bedsprings as Teddy absentmindedly bounced the mattress.

"Who ya writing to?" he asked at last, unable to contain his curiosity.

"Nobody," she muttered, but a maroon blush was creeping its way up her cheeks.

He sat up, smirking. "The same nobody Al was teasing you about last Sunday before you punched him?"

Rose stood up, creased her letter with a purposeful pinch, stuffed it into an envelope, and carried it over to her large gray barn owl. "Maybe." She let the owl clamp the letter in its beak and carried it over to the open window. Teddy rolled off the bed and followed her, trying to get a look at the name on the envelope. "But Al was being a prat. We're just friends."

"Of course," Teddy agreed as she threw the bird out into the deep blue sky, blush flaming in her cheeks. But there was a satisfied smile on her lips as she watched it disappear into the cloudless horizon. Teddy wondered if she even saw the clouds gathering in the distance.

Teddy and Hugo – Words

Hugo didn't understand. Maybe he was too little or just lucky, but he didn't get it. They were just words, just things other people said. You didn't have to listen.

"But you have to hear," Teddy told him quietly.

He was upset, that much Hugo could tell. People were calling him names at school. Hugo had tried to teach him the rhyme about rubber and glue, but Teddy said it wouldn't work. Then he remembered something else his mummy told him.

"Sticks and stones can break my bones, but words can never hurt me," he recited carefully, running his toy truck up Teddy's spine.

Teddy turned his head so that his tawny eyes looked right into Hugo's big brown ones. He probably shouldn't have said it, but he couldn't help himself. "Sticks and stones can break my bones, but words alone can kill me."

The car slipped out of Hugo's pudgy fingers. He probably didn't understand, but maybe the look on Teddy's face had given him an idea, because his lip trembled and his eyes filled up. Teddy sat up hastily, wishing he'd kept his mouth shut. He let Hugo crawl up into his lap and snuffle into his shoulder. Well, it was stupid to teach kids that words didn't mean anything anyway.

Teddy and James – Trouble

When the door slammed, Teddy knew they were in trouble.

From the time he'd been _born_, James had caused havoc and reveled in chaos. He'd spit up on Teddy's Christmas jumper, torn the pages out of his favorite picture book, and put his shoes in the toilet. He'd learned his first word from Teddy. His first swear word. James had stolen his wand the night before Teddy's first time to school. He'd destroyed Teddy's bedroom, broken his broom, and gotten him grounded for an entire Christmas break all over a stupid turtle. And that wasn't even counting the canary creams in his Christmas cake, the dung bombs in his school trunk, or any of the six toad incidents.

Teddy knew James would never ever grasp exactly what an upheaval his existence had caused in Teddy's life. But damn it, James was _his _upheaval. And he'd stand here all night if he had to.

"Open the bloody door!" he ordered, hammering the battered, paint-peeling door to James and Fred's flat. "Jamie, I want to talk to you!"

But he didn't get an answer. For the first time in his life, James wouldn't answer him. Yep. They were in trouble.

Teddy and Al – Stumble

Teddy winced as tiny nails bit into his palms, but he didn't let go. Al wobbled dangerously as his wandering foot found the carpet again and he squealed. Teddy took a shuffling step forward to keep up with him. Across the room, James was hanging like a monkey from the windowsill.

"Nanana, can't get me!" he sang gleefully, poking his tongue out at his little brother and dropping back to the floor to tear past them in the opposite direction. Al howled in high-pitched frustration and almost overbalanced, swinging his whole body forward to try to go faster. Teddy caught him and set him back on his feet.

"James, knock it off," he snapped, annoyed. "You're bigger than him. It's not nice to tease."

But James paid no attention, just kept ricocheting around the room like a pinball because he could and his brother couldn't. Teddy sighed. "Don't mind him, Al. He'll run into a chair or something and be wailing any minute."

But Al did not seem much consoled. He let out another shriek and threw himself forward with such force that he almost broke Teddy's grip.

"Hang on, Alby," Teddy told him, struggling to keep a hold on the baby. "You can't do it by yourself. You'll fall." Al might have been a month past his first birthday, but he looked tiny and very breakable and Teddy wasn't going to _let _him fall.

But he was stronger than he looked. With a writhing tug, he wriggled free, and his momentum carried him forward one, two, three stumbling steps before he crashed to the carpet. His first steps. And his first fall.

Teddy and Lily – Spider Web

A breeze ruffled the springy grass, and Lily seemed to sway with it, long red braid dancing. She sat cross-legged, leaning over the low, leafless branches of a shrub, sketch pad in lap, pencil in hand. Quiet as the wind, Teddy crossed the lawn and knelt down beside her.

"Hey, bud. Whatcha drawing?"

She offered him the sketch pad. The delicate, crisscrossing weave of a spider web, glistening in silver pencil between the emerald flush of leaves. And in the middle of this pretty tapestry, she was drawing the spider in all its spindly eight-legged, hairy glory, a thick, black-brown blot in the middle of the page.

"You hate spiders," he reminded her, raising an eyebrow as she bent closer to examine the real live thing sitting in its web in front of her.

Lily shrugged. "But I like their message."

"What, trap helpless prey in a sticky web?"

Lily gave him the scornful look she reserved especially for him because he liked to wind her up and snatched her sketch back. "_No_. That beauty can come from hideous things, like the spider weaving its web."

Teddy sat back on his haunches, looking at her.

"You're doing it again," he accused.

"What?"

He pulled her sideways into a headlock, ruffling her hair and making her drop her sketch pad. "Growing up when I'm not looking."

**A/N: Hope you liked the first installment. As mentioned above, this is for a challenge. My connect-the-Weasleys challenge. Check it out on the HPFC and join the fun! I wanna see your take on these people and these words. And maybe you could drop me a line here? **


	2. Victoire

**A/N: Alrighty, here we go with the next eleven. This is quite fun :) I meant to tell you last time, but if you're curious to know what the age dynamics are, you can check out my profile and look at the timeline section. I've got when all the kids were born there. Suffice it to say, Vic's the oldest and Lily's the youngest and there's not quite eight years between them, so they're all fairly close in age. I guess there's ten between Lily and Teddy. Anyway, off you go. Hope you enjoy. **

Victoire and Dominique – Fireworks

"_Just leave me alone!"_

"_Why do you always have to ruin EVERYTHING_ _I care about?"_

"_Why is it always MY FAULT?" _

"_I can't WAIT until I can move OUT, and get AWAY from you!" _

"_Me NEITHER!" _

The echo of doors slamming, pounding footsteps on the stairs reverberated through the thunder of fireworks exploding over their heads as she met Victoire's eyes. Dominique looked away quickly, pressing herself flat on the ground and letting the noise of the fireworks fill her chest and wash out the damp, curling remains of the anger that always brought stupid tears to her eyes.

There was a skittering of rocks and someone landed on the outcropping Dominique had claimed as her own, away from the rest of their family all ranged on the cliffs above, ooing and ahing over Uncle George's latest creations. The shower of gold and scarlet stars that had just burst over Dominique's head blurred, and she let out a shuttering breath.

There was a soft hand in the tangle of Dominique's short red hair, the edge of a skirt gently dabbing at her wet cheeks. Her sister helped her sit up and wrapped her in a tight hug, whispering an apology in her ear under the tumult of explosions.

Dominique, biting down on her lip to stop from wailing, watched the nets of flaming color fall into the sea, and wondered why, every time they fought, she always ended up being the sodden, bedraggled fallout and Victoire the one to come and fish her out.

Victoire and Louis – Help

"I'm going to fail!"

"No you're not."

"Dad's going to kill me."

"Well, probably."

"Vic! You're not _helping_!"

"It's your own fault. Why didn't you ask Bridwell to go over the material you didn't understand?"

"Er…."

"Louis, did you even _open _a book before tonight?"

"I forgot, okay? What do I care about bloody transfiguration for anyway? It's a stupid subject. If I want a teapot, I'll just buy a damn teapot instead of killing a poor tortoise. It's animal cruelty is what it is."

"Lou, I have N.E.W.T's starting in _two days_. Do you understand what that means?"

"Vic, _please_!"

Victoire heaved a sigh. But that placatory note under her brother's whine had the same effect on her as it had when he was four. She took him by the shoulders and steered him into a chair. "Take three deep breaths," she instructed, kneeling in front of him and producing a thermos out of her bag. "Drink."

"This isn't some black market brain stimulant, is it? 'Cause I've heard what they put in those –"

"It's hot chocolate, Lou. Now do you want my help or not?"

Obediently, he let out a slow breath and took a draw from the thermos. When most of the panic had gone from his face, Victoire took her place across the table from him and pulled a book toward her.

"Okay, let's start with something easy. What's the incantation?..."

Victoire and Molly – Be Prepared

Molly straightened her glasses in what Victoire thought was a slightly haughty fashion and pushed a loose strand of hair (an incredible anomaly given the severity of her bun) out of her face. "I suppose you're the one with experience," she said, not sounding like she believed it. "But, not to sound snobbish, but I think I'm a little better prepared than you were. I've been planning my career since my second year."

Victoire had to fight rolling her eyes. Every time she tried to have a heart-to-heart with Molly, she forgot that it was _Molly _she was attempting to reach out to. Molly who knew everything. Molly who didn't _need _anybody's advice. Molly who was going to be Minister of Magic someday so you should treat me like it, thank you very much.

Molly who was a naïve seventeen-year-old who couldn't see the title wave of life rushing at her. And hadn't they all been like that once? Hadn't Victoire wished bitterly, when she'd been blind-sided in the torrent, that someone might have _pointed it out_?

"There's more to life after Hogwarts than just your career, Moll," she said gently. She wasn't aiming for Molly's insecurities, didn't want to rip open any of the delicate social wounds she knew her cousin had quietly collected. But it needed to be said.

"You really think so?" Molly asked. Her lips twitched in a condescending smile.

Victoire closed her eyes. Well, if they didn't _listen _to your warnings, it wasn't your fault if they drowned, right?

Victoire and Lucy – Diary

Lucy found it under the mattress in the room she and her sister used to share with Vic and Dom in the days when the Burrow would be habitually assailed by grandchildren. Before they'd all _grown up. _Well, she hadn't grown out of spending the first night back from school with her grandparents, and that was why she'd been hanging upside-down off the bed all on her own in the first place.

It was a book lined with pink satin and embroidered with lace flowers, a silken ribbon curling elegantly between the pages, so she wasn't surprised to find Victoire's name scrawled in the front cover. She hesitated for only a moment when she realized it was a diary. But judging by the dates, Victoire hadn't written in it since she was sixteen. That was more than seven years ago, now. She was married and going to have a baby, so why would she care about this anymore? Besides, it wasn't like she would ever _know_.

An entry for an entry, Lucy thought, straightening up and pulling the quill out of her ponytail. For everyone she read, she would write one of her own. Then maybe it would be sort of like having a conversation with someone.

Victoire and Fred – Heartache

She didn't think Fred Weasley would ever truly appreciate the word. With his shy smile, his natural charm, his easy wit, there would always be a girl waiting, hoping, wishing for his attention. And the fact that he seemed genuinely surprised and thrilled to find her each time meant his fortune wasn't like to change anytime soon.

Victoire tried not to be too jealous as she watched him across the crowded sitting room, tenderly kissing his girlfriend under the mistletoe. Each of the few he'd brought home had seemed perfect, like they could already be living their happily-ever-after. It was too _easy _for him, and that didn't seem fair.

A goblet floated down in front of her eyes.

"Eggnog?"

Teddy vaulted over the back of the sofa with his own goblet, splattering a few drops on her. She carefully wiped them off, lips quirking fondly as she felt her husband's lips on her neck. Alright, so it had all turned out pretty well for her in the end, but that didn't mean she hadn't gotten at least a _few _scars. Everyone deserved one or two.

Victoire and Roxanne – Study

"You're not supposed to be in here, Roxy."

"I know."

"So what are you doing?"

Roxanne shrugged. "Just looking. I'm not going to _touch_ anything. I just want to see. Uncle Harry won't be angry about that."

Victoire sucked a lip. No. He wouldn't be. But still. "It's rude," she tried to explain.

"Why?" Roxanne turned curious eyes on her. "It's not like it's their _bedroom_. I just want to look at the pictures."

She stepped around the desk to examine a faded photo of four boys with their arms slung around each other.

"It's just… look, it's _personal_. If Harry wanted you to see this stuff, he'd keep it in the hall, not in his study."

"It wasn't locked."

"Ok, Teddy and I are the ones in charge until Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny get back, and I need to help him with Lily and the boys, so you need to stay in the living room where we can keep track of you. Alright?"

Roxanne nodded and reluctantly retreated from the room. Victoire closed the door behind her with a breath of relief.

"Vic? What if I ask him about it when he gets back?"

Victoire sighed. "You're going to be a Ravenclaw, aren't you?"

Victoire and Rose – Numb

The rain pounded down, icy and thunderous and hard enough to kick up clouds of mud. The world was silver-gray and Rose could barely see the lights of Shell cottage twenty feet away. The sea was crashing against the cliffs and a greedy wind lashing her soaked hair into her face. But _God_, Rose loved it.

She'd thought Victoire was mad when she'd said let's go dance in the rain. That was an expression. It was something from a book or a song or a corny film. It wasn't something that people actually _did_. Least of all practical, bookish Rose Weasley. Or graceful, composed prefect Victoire Weasley, for that matter. But lately something had gotten into Victoire. Something that made her sing and dance and giggle like she were walking on clouds.

So here they were, clutching hands and spinning, spinning, spinning, drenched and mud-splattered and all feeling hammered out by the rain. And it was _fun_. It was. For the first time all summer, Rose had forgotten to be nervous about going to school, nervous for what house she'd be in and if she was _really _as smart as everyone said.

And when they burst into the blazing kitchen, streaming and breathless, and feeling rushed back to her, somehow there was only excitement left, and Rose wanted to laugh for the exhilaration. So she did, turning and wrapping her arms around Victoire in a sudden rush of affection.

Victoire and Hugo – Nostalgia

"Do you remember how you used to dance with me?"

Hugo blushed and set down his cup, glancing around. "What, when I was four? You wouldn't really tell everybody that, would you?"

"Why not?" Victoire laughed, poking him in the stomach playfully. "It was adorable. You wanted to be my prince charming."

Hugo grinned embarrassedly. All around them, his friends from school chatted and drank and joked, celebrating the commencement of their adult lives.

"You were my little buddy, do you remember?" she went on obliviously. "You lot always used to be over at our house when your parents worked. You used to play in mine and Dom's room and I'd read you to sleep in my bed from my fairy books. You even had me paint your nails once because I was doing mine. I thought your dad was going to choke on his own tongue when he saw that."

She was chortling and Hugo was glowing pink, but when Victoire sighed and looked at him and asked where all _that _time went, he found himself wondering that, too.

Victoire and James – Afterlife

"Do you believe in an afterlife?"

The question could not have been more sudden. There they were, frosting Christmas cookies in the middle of the Burrow, listening to Gran's favorite broadcast, and James Potter came out with that. Well, no one ever said he had tact.

Victoire quirked a pale eyebrow at him, but otherwise calmly mulled over the question, the ring on her left hand sparkling as she smeared blue icing on a snowman. This was one of the reasons he'd asked her; he knew she'd take him seriously.

"I believe that life ends, thus there must be a period _after _it… but what that is, I can't say."

"And all the people, like on Muggle TV and stuff, who say they've seen things when their hearts stopped or whatever?"

"I don't know, James. I haven't seen a lot of Muggle TV. But… I've read a few healing books. They say when you're deprived of oxygen, you tend to hallucinate."

"So you don't think it's real?"

"I don't think the word of someone in bad enough shape not to be breathing should constitute as proof of anything."

"But you don't think it's real, do you, Victoire? Come on, I know you don't. You're a bloody journalist. Skepticism runs in your veins." It was the other reason he'd asked her and not anybody else.

Victoire laughed. "Maybe. Why the sudden interest in the spiritual, anyway?"

James looked down and began drawing in the smears of frosting on his plate. "Al's just… been saying some things lately. But I think he's barking."

Victoire looked at him carefully. "Probably," she said, because clearly that was what he needed to hear.

Victoire and Al – Wishing

Al watched her with his head cocked to the side. She was laying on the grass, staring up at the starry sky, hair a silvery pink in the moonlight. He took a step forward on the porch.

"What are you doing?"

Victoire tipped her head back to look at him upside down. She smiled a little and patted the ground next to her. Albus didn't need another invitation; he scampered down the Burrow's back steps and flung himself to the ground beside her, squinting through his glasses to try and see what she saw.

"What constellations has Teddy told you about?" she asked, sitting up against the porch rail and pulling him sideways into her lap.

"He told me 'bout the Princess Andromeda and Perceus and Orion and Hercules and" – he paused to take a shuddering breath – "the scorpion."

"How about Leo, has he told you that one yet?"

Al shook his head eagerly and nestled into the warmth of her sweater, feeling her voice hum through his chest as she began the story.

"Look," Victoire whispered, shaking him a little. He'd almost drifted off to sleep, but the tickle of her long hair on his neck jerked him awake. Her finger was tracing the flaming path of something streaking through the inky heavens.

"A falling star," he murmured, awed. He'd never seen one before.

Victoire tightened her arms around him. "Make a wish."

Victoire and Lily - Return

_Dear Lily._

That was how the letters all started. Lily fanned the thick stack against her palm, one for every month Lily had been in Italy. That meant thirty four. Thirty four. Thirty four months. Were you really dear to someone if you hadn't seen them, save for a Christmas or two, in almost three years?

Victoire always went on for pages, telling her everything. Isobel was talking up a storm. John was starting to read. Teddy had been promoted to some special task force, which was apparently quite a big deal. She wondered if he would still call her squirt. She wondered if he would still _recognize_ her.

Lucy was starting a new job. Gran had tripped on the stairs, but she was fine. Dom had had a falling-out with her boyfriend of nine months, a bloke Lily had never even seen. Rose had started shopping for a wedding dress. Had she heard from Hugo lately?

_Missing you_.

That was how every letter ended. Lily bit her lip, stared out at the sun-soaked sprawl of the ancient city around her, the _magic _that she'd never found anywhere else before, and made her decision. Victoire was right. She had been missing. It was about time she was found.

**A/N: What'd you think? I realize that some of them might have been ambiguous again, or else not had the intended effect seeing as I know everyone's whole story and lay out symbols and significances that don't get picked up on because I haven't **_**written **_**everything yet. But I love chatting, so ask away if you're interested :) And I highly recommend giving this a shot yourself, even if you don't do all 78. This is such a blast for character exploration. Hope to be hearing from you soon! **


	3. Dominique

**A/N: Ha! I didn't think I'd do it, but I wrote all of them in one night. Well, we'll see how it went. I do love Dominique, but have only just begun to really play around with her, and only in the background. Thank you all so very much for your feedback and interest! It's lovely and makes this great fun.**

Dominique and Louis – Beautiful

"He's going to ask you."

"Oh, give it a rest, Lou. No he isn't."

She stooped to pick up a rock and hurl it into the lake. Louis shaded his eyes to watch its progress, whistling appreciatively. There was a reason his sister was the best Beater in the school.

"Five sickles says I can get this one farther," Dominique wagered, tossing another rock, this one the size of a bludger, from palm to palm.

"I'm not stupid enough to take that bet," Louis told her with a quirk to his eyebrow that asked how naïve she thought he was. She smirked. "Five sickles says Danny Bell asks you to Hogsmeade, though."

She heaved the rock. It landed a good ten feet farther out than the last with a plunk. "Would you just _drop it_?" she huffed, but she was laughing a little so Louis knew she wasn't totally angry.

"Go on. Ten sickles, even."

"It isn't going to happen."

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Bec –"

"Because I'm not beautiful, alright Lou? Vic's the drop-dead gorgeous one who always had an offer for Hogsmeade. Not me."

Louis peeked sideways at her, red hair jumping about her face in the fading light of the sunset. She was twisting a skipping stone between her fingers now, eyes fixed furiously on her fingers. He wanted to tell her that she was witty and fierce and loyal and never gave up _ever _even when, as her little brother, he wished she would, and what was beautiful if it wasn't _that_? But that was weird to say and the words got all jammed up in his throat just thinking about it.

He nudged her with his shoulder. She nudged him back.

"Five sickles I can skip farther than you."

Dominique and Molly – Unforeseen

Her butterbeer bottle hit the table with an audible thud.

"Me?" Dominique asked incredulously.

"You're the only one here, aren't you?" said Molly impatiently.

"But seriously, you're asking _me_? I'd've thought Rose, or your mum –"

"If you don't want to do it, you can just say so," Molly snapped, sipping her tea through newly-pursed lips.

"No, it's not that," Dominique assured her, swallowing a mouthful of her drink hastily. "It's – I'm honored, Moll, really. But… you hate me."

"I do not hate you," Molly spluttered, sloshing tea over her fingers. "You frustrate me to no end, I disapprove of ninety percent of the things you do, and we have very little in common. But I certainly don't hate you."

"Right, thanks for clearing that up," Dominique muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Look, Lucy's on bed-rest until the baby comes, we can't change the date so close, and we can't have the ceremony in her apartment. I need an understudy maid of honor, and I want it to be you." She delicately picked up her spoon and concentrated on swirling the steaming liquid. "We haven't always gotten along, but… but you've never given up on me; every time we see each other you snap at me for something."

"I do not sna –"

You're the closest thing to a best friend I have." Molly rushed on quickly, snapping her dark eyes back to Dominique. "Even if you are against the establishment of marriage."

"I'm not!" Dominique insisted loudly, thumping her bottle down again. "I just don't see the point if you you've been together less than half your life and don't want kids! …But, um, thanks. About the friend stuff."

"So will you do it or not?" Molly demanded.

Dominique gulped the last of her drink. "What the hell. Sure, Moll, I'd love to."

Dominique and Lucy – Apple

Thick caramel oozed down the sides of the bright red apples, shining golden in the light from the Ferris wheel. The smell was so sweet, she could almost taste it if she closed her eyes, clinging tight to the stuffed rabbit Louis had won for her with his last coin.

"Hungry?"

Lucy jumped and spun around. Dominique had joined her at the caramel apple stand.

"I useded up all my money," Lucy told her, the thought nearly bringing tears to her eyes.

Dominique took her by the hand and led her over to a bench a little ways down the road. "Wait here, and leave it to me," she said with a smirk.

Lucy grabbed for her elbow as she made to leave, partly because waiting alone in the rush of people at Tinworth's harvest festival was terrifying and partly because she'd remembered something else. "You useded up all yours too," she reminded her cousin.

"So?" Dominique shrugged. "Don't move. I'll be back in a sec."

Lucy could still see the caramel apple stand and the vendor serving three customers at once as Dominique approached. She _wanted _to watch and learn how to be brave and reckless like her cousin, but at the last minute got scared and hid her face in her bunny.

It seemed to take ages and ages. Had she gotten caught? Would they arrest her? Would they arrest Lucy, too, for knowing her?

"Lu-uce."

Lucy peeped an eye open. A caramel apple dangled in front of her face.

"Do you want me to teach you?" Dominique asked, licking a drop of caramel off her thumb with a wicked grin.

Dominique and Fred – Punctual

The portrait hole slammed shut with a force that had the Fat Lady swearing on the other side.

"Weasley!"

"What?" half a dozen voices chorused.

Dominique scowled at Hugo, Rose, Roxanne, Lucy, and her brother. "You know which one I meant."

She stalked over to where Fred was sprawled before the fireplace and whacked him with the handle of her broom.

"You know, I always love your compassionate disposition, Dom," he wheezed, rolling over to look up at her.

"You were late for practice," she said stonily. "_Again_."

"Was I? I mean, what is late, really? Do we have to quibble over minutes?"

"_Ten _minutes, that how much you missed today, seven minutes yesterday, and _fourteen_ on Monday! That's thirty-one minutes you owe me, Freddy boy, and that's just for this week. Take that for the year and you're running a debt of four hours. With interest. You'll be settling the bill Saturday."

"I've got a date Saturday –"

"Yes, a date with your broom and the Quidditch pitch. Be there or don't bother to show up for the Ravenclaw match next weekend."

She marched off, determined to soak the mud from her tangled hair before it dried that way. Fred scrambled up and followed her back out into the corridor. The second the portrait swung shut, he threw his arms around her and half-swung her around.

"Dominique, you're the most wonderful cousin and Quidditch captain I could ask for."

"Yeah, well, I figured you were in over your head with Cara Preston," she said, rolling her eyes and grabbing him in a head-lock to rub her knuckles into the top of his head. "Next time, just say no, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"And start showing up to my practices on time."

Dominique and Roxanne – Broken Wings

Dominique knocked and pushed the door open just a crack. "Roxy? It's me…."

There was the patter of bare feet from inside. Then Roxanne's face appeared, dark curls a halo behind her. Her eyes were big and dark and looked so _young_ it hurt. But what really killed her was the guardedness of Roxanne's expression. Roxanne trusted people. That was her hallmark. Maybe that was the problem.

Dominique gently pushed the door wide enough to get through, and Roxanne fled to the bed, perching there like a little bird. Dominique followed her slowly.

"Fred sent a letter," she said.

Roxanne just nodded. Then she drew up her knees and burried her face in them. Then she began shaking.

"Oh, Rox, I'm so, _so _sorry," Dominique breathed, gathering her cousin in her arms, this girl who wasn't quite her sister but whose innocence she would lock away in her heart forever as if she were. "Don't let him take more than he already has," she whispered.

Dominique and Rose – Heartbeat

The rushing in Rose's ears blocked everything out. She could feel each pound of her heart reverberate through her entire skeleton as she waited behind the Chasers to take the pitch. Twelve years old was really too young to play your first official Quidditch match. Particularly when you were the Keeper. And Slytherin's chasers were all N.E.W.T. students.

"I'm going to be sick," she croaked.

"No you're not," Dominique promised.

"No, really, I am. I'm going to pass out and plunge to my death from fifty feet up. It's going to happen."

Dominique took her by the shoulders and turned her around. "Take a deep breath."

Rose's lungs squeaked as she sucked in air.

"Let it out," Dominique reminded her hastily and she let it out with a rush, feeling deflated. "You don 't have to save every shot, today, okay? Not being perfect is totally acceptable. Don't psych yourself out after one or two or even five goals. You're going to be fine."

Rose nodded, but her eyes were still huge.

The doors swung open and sunlight streamed in, momentarily blinding them. Dominique let her go and picked up her own broom, glancing around to make sure Al was still behind Fred and not being sick in the trash bin.

At the door, Rose turned sharply. "Don't watch me," she said jerkily.

Dominique lifted an eyebrow.

"I don't care if the rest of the school sees me being rubbish, but if _you _see me being rubbish in front of the entire school… just, when you tell me great game at the end, even if we've lost horribly, I'd like to know you're not lying through your teeth."

Dominique laughed. "Okay. I _won't _keep an eye out for you."

Dominique and Hugo – Daybreak

There were soft footsteps on the porch behind her and the sound of a blanket being dragged across the weathered wood.

"What are we doing?" Hugo asked sleepily, plunking down next to her on the steps.

Dominique glanced sideways at him, grinning at his wild red curls and the weave of his pillow still pressed into his cheek.

"Watching the sun come up."

"Okay, cool."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the waves crashing and the birds chirping and the soft clatter of pots and pans as her mother started breakfast. It must be around full moon; her father was always restless in the mornings.

"Hey, Dom?" Hugo whispered, leaning against her arm.

"Yeah?"

"How come we're watching the sun come up?"

Dominique tugged his blanket over her legs. "Because I stayed up all night just to see it. First time ever." She beamed at the accomplishment.

"How come?"

"Because… I dunno. There's something special about the whole process, a day ending a day being born and everything in between. It's like you own the night."

"Okay," Hugo mumbled. His eyes were already closing. "Will it fit in your room? The whole night?"

Dominique lay back against the worn wood and let him use her stomach as a pillow. "Sure. I already put it in a bottle. I just need some sunlight to cork it."

"Cool."

Dominique laughed quietly. Someday he'd own his own night and then he'd understand.

Dominique and James – Happy Birthday

James pushed the portrait hole open and stopped dead.

"I'm late for Potions," he snapped, pushing roughly past Dominique.

"Not so fast, hold it," she said, grabbing the collar of his robes. "You're not still peeved at me for the other night, are you?"

"Peeved? Why would I be peeved? You only mortified me in front of the entire team and reprimanded me like I was some two-year-old or your little yappy dog. It'd be petty to be mad over that." He tugged himself free.

"I've told you a million times, James," she sighed, impatient. "You can screw around all you like anywhere but on my pitch, and I don't care how you treat the rest of the world, but you're going to be decent to your team members. And your brother happens to fall into that category."

"What do you even know about it?" James snarled.

He made to storm off, but Dominique caught him again and held him fast. She was still clinging to the inch she had on him. "Hang on one second, - I'm not done with you." She shoved a box into his hands and kissed his cheek because she knew he hated it. "Happy birthday."

James wiped furiously at the place her lips had touched, staring at the box with a strange expression. Then he looked up at her. "Thanks."

She smiled and messed up his hair – not that it made any noticeable difference. "Of course."

"You know you're the first one to say that?"

"Hm, maybe you should try _apologizing _to everyone you pissed off this week."

"I didn't have to apologize to you."

"Yeah, well, I'm special. Now get off to Potions."

Dominique and Al – Protection

It was the most terrifying thing he'd ever done, and it was all he could do not to squeeze his eyes shut as he leaned into a steep dive, aiming for that speck of gold glimmering just above the ground. He was going to crash, he knew it, but he _had _to go for it. The Slytherin Seeker was already shooting across the pitch, and Al had done almost nothing all game, James's words from breakfast still ringing in his head: 'The Seekers are always the ones who get creamed the worst. The other team'll do _anything _ to stop them getting that Snitch.'

So it was official. This dive may well be the last thing he ever did. He just hoped it would be over soon.

There the ground was, looming up before him, and the speck of gold – he could almost grab it! His hand shot out, the wings brushed his palm – and that was when a shadow rocketed out of the sun and he knew he was done for. He'd dared to believe he'd made it, and now it was the end.

Albus screwed up his face in anticipation of the breath-steeling impact, making a desperate, wild snatch for the little gold ball. His demise should at least mean _something_.

There was a whistling in his ears and a deafening _CRACK_, and the next thing Albus knew, he was gasping on the ground. He waited for the pain to come, but… it didn't. He opened his eyes.

Dominique grinned above him, spinning her bat nimbly in her fingers. "Nice capture. I _told _you I'd keep an eye out for you, didn't I?"

Dominique and Lily – Lies

"And what have we got here?" Dominique asked, appearing out of nowhere over Lily's shoulder and attempting to pluck the letter from her hands.

"Nothing," said Lily hastily, vanishing it with her wand.

"Tsk, tsk, underage magic." Dominique hopped up on the counter next to her. "Alright, deary, spill."

Lily leaned nonchalantly on the cabinet beside her. "It's totally dull, actually. Just some Muggle thing I found in the village."

Dominique shook her head. It was a good try, but not nearly good enough.

"Lily, darling, you know that _I _am the excellent older cousin who taught you to lie, don't you?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine. It was a letter from a _boy_. Happy?"

Dominique crossed her arms. "No. You can't distract me with idle gossip, sweetheart. Now, the truth this time or we'll have to do this the hard way."

"What's the hard way?" Lily asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Do you really want to find out?" Dominique asked sweetly.

Lily contemplated. Then she let all her breath out in a long rush. "Okay, so there's this art school in Italy…."

**A/N: Perhaps less dramatic as some of the others, but Dom is somewhat less 'main' then Teddy and Victoire, poor girl. I do love her, but alas, her story is not in the forefront. Usually. Anyway, I've been hesitant to assign ages to any of these because I like to leave it up to you, but I feel a few of them may be in need of clarification. Particularly Roxanne's piece. She is seventeen in it and Dominique is... let me do the math… twenty-two. **

**I'll say a tiny bit about Dom's relationship with her and Lucy (only six months older than Roxanne). I imagine the three of them kind of hanging around each other at family functions. Roxanne and Dom, despite the four-and-a-half year age gap, are cut of the same cloth in many ways. They enjoy the same humor and are both avid Quidditch players and appreciators of the art of flying – something the rest of the family didn't get into as heavily. The flying part, obviously, not the Quidditch thing. Lucy, being Roxy's age and Dom being pretty inviting, sort of tags along with them. She admires them both quite a bit. You also may have noticed how so many of these revolved around Quidditch? (Al's and Rose's were on the same day, their first ever match.) It's a fairly huge part of Dom's life and identity, that's why. I've also got an idea about her relationship with Fred and James which I found hard to capture here, but I suppose you're the judges of that. **

**Alright, well, I've blabbered on enough. If you'd like to hear some more blabber, poke me with an inquisitive review or PM :) **


End file.
